A/N: Chapter revised April 28, 2016
Chapter XXI: Chitter
"It came for me." Lucy babbled as Aearmarth removed the cat corpse from her bed. "I told you, Glorfindel. The darkness came, and then I was gone. It knows I'm here. It talks to me. It talks to me and it gets mad when I don't talk back."
Behind them there was a soft plunk as the seneschal placed the dead kitten in a bag. This was followed by the loud rustle of fabric as Aeloth stripped Lucy's sheets from her bed. Glorfindel was sitting on her dresser stool, albeit with reluctance. His back was to the mirror, his slim fingers inching towards the short sword strapped to his side. Lucy was nearly sprawled across his lap, her hands on either side of his face as she forced him to look at her.
"You believe me, don't you?" she asked, and her hysteria was mounting. "The darkness is here. It found me. You're going to get hurt."
Glorfindel's eyes were extremely blue up close. So very, very blue, like looking into a pair of polished gemstones and seeing the universe swirling inside. There were the stirrings of panic in them, the desire to get up and deal with the problem by using his sword. The only thing that seemed to be stopping him was Lucy herself, as she was leaning her full weight against him. She kept her hands on his face to make sure he was staring at her. Made sure she was looking back.
"Of course I believe you." Glorfindel said softly, and Lucy could tell he was being truthful. There was a note of placation to his voice, mingled with a strain of urgency as he curled his fingers carefully over hers and pried them off his face. "You know I believe you, Nimeleth. Please, I do. But this is my, I must…" He paused, his gaze shifting back and forth as he seemed to search for the right word to explain himself. "This is my home. My task to complete." Then, as if to soften the blow "It was just a kitten, Dear One. I will fix the problem soon."
Lucy didn't want him fixing anything. She didn't want him going anywhere. She knew she shouldn't say too much on the off chance it would make things worse, but he couldn't leave her. She had to make him see the danger.
"A balrog kills you," she blurted out. His gaze focused on her fully, then. Finally Lucy saw fear in his gaze, and a twisted sort of elation filled her. She wasn't going to let Glorfindel die like Tommy. She wasn't going to be left alone again. "Do you remember?" Lucy asked. "I told the King at the trial, and he didn't believe me. A balrog comes to Gondolin. It kills you. It kills a lot of people. Please, stay here."
From the door there was the scraping sound of a sword being rattled anxiously in its scabbard, followed by Ecthelion's voice rising up, his words sharp and angry.
"Has she talked about this before?" he demanded. "About Morgoth finding the city?" Glorfindel didn't look at him, choosing instead to meet Lucy's gaze head on.
"No." he said, his fingers tightening around hers even as he removed them from his face. His tone was eerily calm. "Not often. She has been good."
It was a front. Lucy knew it was a front, even as he stood and pushed her back, placing one hand atop her head in reassurance. Lucy clutched at it, leaning into his chest. Outside, there was a cacophony of chirping crickets. The moon had begun to rise over the edge of the encircling mountains.
"Laurëfindil, if she has been speaking of the Dark Lord, you have to take her back to the King." Ecthelion was saying. He continued pacing in the doorway, even as Aearmarth retreated past him with dead cat in hand. "You must, you understand? That was the deal."
Lucy didn't look at him directly, nor did she question this deal they were discussing. Instead she focused all her attention on Glorfindel, pawing at his front with an insistent hand. He couldn't leave her. He wouldn't. The thing was here.
"Glorfindel." she pleaded. "Glorfindel, you can't go." She wasn't above throwing a tantrum to keep him with her. The elf lord sighed and used his free hand to capture hers, his long fingers wrapping around her palm to still it.
"I must." he insisted, and there was a firmness building in his voice. "It is nothing, you understand? I will be back soon. You must wait here with the guards. Aeloth, too."
"Laurëfindil," Ecthelion began angrily, stepping forward, but Glorfindel immediately cut him off.
"She hasn't." he said. He looked over Lucy's head towards the other elf lord. The calm was gone, and his fear was apparent. There was a slight tremble to his voice. "You will say nothing, understand? She has been good, I swear it."
"She's his creature."
"Mo se!" Glorfindel snapped in Quenya, and suddenly his tone was desperate, his hand darting out and grasping Lucy's collar as if to keep her from being dragged away. "Mo se, ar úvaldë maparya niva. Lá."
"I told you," Ecthelion insisted, striding into Glorfindel's space and staring at him head on. He still sounded slightly drunk, and there remained the faintest flush of pink to his cheeks. "I told you that it was a bad idea to bring her here. But did anyone listen to me? No, no one ever does. Just like they did not listen about those cursed ships –"
Quickly Glorfindel stepped between them, pushing Lucy behind him and blocking the other ellon's path.
"Mo se." he repeated. He was holding himself so taut that Lucy was sure he would break. "Please, don't tell them. I will do it myself. It is just a cat –"
"Glorfindel, you can't go." Lucy began, tugging on his sleeve. "It's here."
"It is not just a cat!" Ecthelion spat. Lucy flinched when he raised his voice to a yell. The elf leaned forward, making to grab for Glorfindel's collar, but the ellon slapped his hand away and turned his head to the side, his body language screaming avoidance.
"Do not ignore me." Ecthelion insisted. He refused to be dissuaded, even when Aeloth began to protest behind him in Quenya. "I am sick to death of being ignored. And do not pretend to misunderstand what I am speaking about. I have known you for far too long, and I will not –"
There was the sudden groaning creak of Lucy's heavy door being opened, then the jangle of chainmail as one of Glorfindel's guards leaned sideways to peer inside. His blond hair was familiar somehow, and it took Lucy a moment to realize that it was the Captain of the Guard, Caragduin. She hadn't seen him in ages.
"We've found something." he said simply, his expression blank and his voice even, but the eyes behind his golden mask were hard. Ecthelion made a tch sound with his tongue and immediately turned on his heel, stalking out of the room in a swirl of blue and long black hair. Almost immediately Glorfindel followed, freeing himself from Lucy's grasp despite her protests. He pushed her towards Aeloth.
"Watch her." he said, not looking back. Then he was gone. Lucy was utterly indignant. For a moment her outrage outweighed her fear. By the time it cooled however, the door was clicking shut, and she realized she was trapped. Inside there was no one left but her, Aeloth, and one of the guards. The panic returned full force.
"No!" she cried, throwing off Aeloth's hand and rushing forward to try and unlock the door. It did her absolutely no good. She pounded on the wood for a minute or two, and when the guards in the hallway refused to open it, Lucy resorted to pacing anxiously back and forth. The chilly night air was causing goose bumps to rise along her arms, her skirt and slippers swishing over the rug-strewn floor. By the wall her dolls stared at her with dead eyes, the starlight reflecting eerily off their bone white faces. The harp sitting in the corner of her room looked like a collection of boiled ribs.
She had to escape. She had to find the books. Lucy was trapped though, and for the first time in almost half a year she realized how little agency she possessed. Glorfindel was an elf, and would remain loyal to his own kind. Elves were also much, much bigger than her, and infinitely more lethal. If she tried to run they'd catch her within minutes. And even if she did manage to escape, Lucy had no way to survive on her own. The creature was still out there, along with the Smoke Man. The sensation of being caged was terrifying.
"Child," Aeloth said, reaching for her with gentle hands. Lucy shook her off and continued pacing. "Child, there is nothing wrong. We will get you another cat."
Lucy didn't want another cat. She wanted Glorfindel. She wanted someone who would believe her. "Where's Morwen?" she asked, grasping at leads. "I want to talk to her."
Aeloth's expression was one of mild frustration. "Morwen is ill." The elleth said, folding her hands together. "We are taking care of her."
"You are bad at taking care of people." Lucy snapped. Her pacing grew more frantic as the tightness beneath her breastbone deepened. "I remember what happened in the dungeons. You aren't Edain. You don't know how to fix us. I want to see Morwen."
"Tomorrow, child. Come, sit down. Not on the bed – your stool, perhaps?"
Lucy ignored her and kept pacing.
There was nothing for hours. No additional movement except for that in the hallway; no noise inside save for the loud rustle of Lucy's skirts. Twice more she tried to break free, once through the window and the other through the door. Both times she was stopped, either by Aeloth or the guard that had been stationed with them, who refused to talk to her directly under any circumstance. Glorfindel didn't come back, and Lucy decided that even if it was a small problem, like Aeloth said, she couldn't stand the waiting. The lingering was physically painful, and the not-knowing-what-was-happening-to-him was even worse.
Briefly, Lucy's memories regressed to a previous conversation she'd had with Tommy, about the bloody legacy of the First Age. If war came to Gondolin, she would be left behind, she realized. The elves would go and fight, and Glorfindel would definitely be among them. Probably Maeglin, too.
Oh god, she couldn't bear it. She couldn't even stand the thought.
"Let me out!" Lucy shrieked, rushing forward and pounding on the door in terror. Aeloth sighed and murmured something to the guard in Quenya, and a moment later Lucy felt him put a firm hand on her arm as he began to pull her back. She tried to shake him off, grasping the handle in desperation, but he simply reached down and picked her up off the ground; carrying her away as if she were no more than a sack of potatoes.
"Let me go!" Lucy wailed, but he didn't, even when she reached for his helmet in an effort to yank it off and go for his ears. "Let me go, I need to – something bad will happen, I have to – Glorfindel, make them stop!" But Glorfindel wasn't there.
When the guard put her down, Aeloth stepped close and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, but immediately Lucy tried to throw her off. She couldn't stay still. She wouldn't.
"Lucy," Aeloth chided, but Lucy refused to be dissuaded. She made a wordless sound of frustration as she slapped the elleth's hand away. Aeloth was just as stubborn. "Lucy, you must calm yourself." she insisted, her tone growing harder. "Take the blanket, child. It is getting cold –"
"No," Lucy said as she struggled. "No, no, I don't want it, it's not safe –"
"Of course it is, child."
"I want to go with them!"
"Laurëfindil has said you are to stay here."
"Glorfindel's not here anymore!"
"He is the Lord of this Estate." Aeloth insisted, and her words were icy. "You will listen to him."
"Not my lord," Lucy said with a sneer, and she couldn't help it. When she was angry and upset, she tended to lash out. "He's never been my lord. I'm human."
Like a snake Aeloth's hand whipped out and grasped her by the jaw. Her pale fingers dug in so hard they left sharp grooves in her skin. Lucy cried out, trying to dislodge her, but despite her slender appearance the elleth's grip was firm. Her grey blue eyes were coldly furious, and if she'd been a different sort of person, Lucy was sure the elf would've slapped her.
"Laurëfindil has sacrificed much for you." Aeloth said calmly, but there was a visible sort of rage simmering beneath the surface. "Too much, and he continues to do so. He is your lord, but he wishes nothing but the best for you. You belong to the House of the Golden Flower now, you understand? You are not going back to the Edain."
"But they're my people."
"Not anymore!" Aeloth snapped.
Then Lucy felt it. A tightening beneath her breastbone, a twisting sensation she knew all too well. Time was shifting again, and she was in danger. Lucy bolted, straight for the window.
She didn't think about it, really, or even consider what might come next. All she knew was that she had to leave, and she had to leave now. She slapped Aeloth's hand away and ducked under the elleth's arm, scrabbling across the floor. The elf let out a shout and made to grab her, but missed; probably because both she and the guard had thought that Lucy was making another pass at the door.
Run, Lucy thought, run faster. Her window came up all too quickly, and it was only when her foot was hanging in midair and she felt the drop in her stomach that Lucy thought oh, and wondered how bad the impact would be. Then there was a jerking sensation, and she was being yanked violently backwards by the guard, who had his hand fisted in her collar.
"Lucy!" Aeloth exclaimed, rushing forward. Her expression – in that brief moment that Lucy saw it – was as animated as it had ever been. "Lucy, why would you do that?!" There was fear in Aeloth's voice, mingled with anger. For a moment Lucy just hung there in the guard's hands, letting him drag her back as the reality of the situation sunk in. Then the twisting sensation became a ripping, and Lucy gasped, because she'd felt this particular sensation before. She had. It was here.
"No." she moaned. She started struggling like her life depended on it, twisting in the guard's grasp and begging incoherently as she fought to break free. "No, no, no! Please, let me go, it's here, it's coming for me, it's coming, please, let me go –"
"Hold her still." Aeloth muttered in Sindarin, withdrawing a small silver bottle from a hidden pocket on the front of her dress. Immediately Lucy recognized it for what it was, and knew the elleth wanted to put her under. She struggled harder, kicking her feet and shrieking as Aeloth reached for her face, but the guard held her still.
"No. No," she begged in English, then in broken Sindarin. "No, please stop. I'll be good –"
"Shh, child." Aeloth crooned. Even though her tone was calm, there was a tightness around her eyes that spoke of frustration. "It is for the best. You are hysterical."
"No, please, I'm not. It's here –"
"You will be fine." she demurred. Lucy turned her head away as the elf tried to bring the bottle to her lips. "Lucy, you must drink it."
"No."
"Lucy."
Lucy jerked her head to escape the elleth's grasp, craning her neck back. As she did so she saw the creature from the dungeons clinging to her ceiling, clicking its teeth and hanging upside down like a bat.
Lucy didn't have time for a coherent response. She screamed as loud as she could.
Aeloth followed her gaze. When she spotted the creature she cried out in turn. The elleth dropped the bottle. The guard cursed and pushed Lucy away. I found you, the voice crooned, and Lucy sobbed. The creature trilled.
It took less than a minute for it to attack. Everything in that time was chaos.
Down from the ceiling the creature came, clambering limb over limb as it strafed across the bedposts like a giant albino spider. When it dropped from the canopy to land heavily on the mattress, Lucy moaned and scrambled away, but the creature was huge and fast and so very strong, and she couldn't outrun it. Chit-chit-chittt went its teeth as it clicked them rapidly together, its nostrils flaring as it sniffed its way across the bed.
Lucy screamed again, and Aeloth screamed with her, darting to the side to pick up the stool and throw it at the creature. It remained undeterred. Within seconds the guard was drawing his sword and rushing forward.
"Lucy, get down!" Aeloth cried, but there was no more down to go to. She was trapped between the bed and the sealed door. The fingers that reached for her were twice as long as any elf's, and as the monster clambered towards her it continued to click its teeth. When its fingers snagged in her sleeve, Lucy flailed backwards. She fell to the floor, hitting her elbow and crying out in pain as she tried to pull away.
The creature was practically on top of her, crawling on all fours off the bed as it wrapped its fingers around her ankle and squeezed. Lucy heard her bones break with a sharp snap. She shrieked. Suddenly the pain didn't matter so much as the terror. Lucy kicked with her other leg, trying to break free. Its hand was cold to the point of burning. Her flesh where it gripped her was cracking like ice beneath a mallet, spider web veins running along her calf.
"Lucy!" Aeloth cried. She rushed forward, trying to pull the creature off, but all it did was flick its free arm in her direction and the elleth went flying, soaring across the room and hitting the closet door with a thunk. She fell in a boneless heap and lay still.
The guard raised his sword and brought it down in the same moment, but the creature ducked his swipe like water and let out a chittering hiss.
"GLORFINDEL!" Lucy screamed, but he didn't come. He didn't hear her. She sobbed and tried to drag herself away. It didn't work.
The pain was blinding as the creature tugged her towards it. As it did so a long pink tongue emerged from between its lips like an over-sized, fleshy worm. Even in the dim light of the lamps that hung from her ceiling, Lucy could see the blood on its face, black like oil in the darkness. She thought of her kitten, all red and skinned. She thought of what those teeth could do to her, and screamed harder. Kicking the creature in the face with her other foot, Lucy twisted around and tried to scrabble across the tiles. The monster gave her broken ankle one sharp jerk – so hard her foot turned sideways – and Lucy nearly blacked out from the pain. The only thing that kept her going was the terror.
Not here, she thought furiously. Not like this. But this was her end, and the creature was going to kill her. There was a loud bang as her doors were thrown open, but all Lucy could do was think about the six inches of floor in front of her, and how she could use it to escape.
She reached out, trying to grab the leg of her dresser to pull herself up, but the monster's grip was too strong. All it took was another good tug to send the table toppling over with the force of its pull. The dresser went down in a clatter of jewellery and half-lit candles, golden bits of polished glitter scattering across the floor. Lucy scrabbled amongst the pieces, searching for something to defend herself with. There was nothing.
Not now, she thought, no, please. But the creature didn't care. Glorfindel still didn't hear her.
"Heca, saura eredh o Morgoth!" someone shouted, and above them there was the shing of a sword slicing through the air. The creature ducked again. Don't fight it, someone crooned in her ear, but Lucy did. A guard tried to throw the creature off, but when it refused to budge he swung his sword around in a graceful arc to try and severe its head. The blade merely got stuck in its flesh.
Almost languidly, the sword still in its neck, the monster turned, reaching up and ripping off the ellon's head with its free hand. The body dropped with a thud, blood spray in the air, and Lucy knew. She knew she was doomed. There was no escape this time.
The despair set in.
"NO!" she screamed, kicking with her free foot. "NO, STOP!" The second guard rushed forward, and the creature grabbed the elf by the front of his tunic and threw him bodily against the wall. For a second it loosened its hold on her. Before Lucy could think the action through she was turning, snivelling and sobbing hard as she dragged herself across the floor on her stomach. Behind her there was a wet squelching sound as the second guard's head came off with a pop; the click of the creature's nails as it began to clamber after her. Lucy crawled faster.
"No." she sobbed as she felt the creature turn around; she felt the ground shake beneath its weight as it began crawling over her, hovering with splayed limbs. It lowered its head and sniffed at her hair, clicking its teeth beside her ear. "No, no, no. Please, no –"
Long fingers gripped the back of her neck like the scruff of her now-dead kitten, turning her over and pulled her towards it mouth. Its hand was on her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. Then Lucy saw nothing but white and felt nothing but fire as it sunk its teeth into her throat and tore.
Needles into flesh, they were, like scissors rapidly snipping through sinew and skin. Lucy tried to scream, but there was something warm and wet clogging her throat. Suddenly the blood was everywhere and the creature was severing her jugular. Don't squirm, the voice in her head said, but Lucy did. Her hands beat ineffectually against the monster, her fingers scrabbling against its shoulder. There was nothing to grab onto, and nothing to shield herself with. Silverfish swam across her field of vision, like specks of light floating amongst billions of stars. They were beautiful, those flashes of color, but there were no stars here. Only the red and the eating. Lucy could feel teeth grinding against her bones, the thickness of fluid building in her throat. She didn't want to die.
You gave me no choice, the voice said, and it almost sounded petulant in that moment. You should have come to me sooner.
"UI!" someone screamed, but their voice sounded muffled. There was a ringing sensation in Lucy's ears. Then she felt a jerking motion, and the teeth were being ripped from her neck. The jaws opened. The hand tangled in her hair was severed at the wrist with a sword.
Lucy fell, dropping to the floor like a bloody gamine doll. She coughed at the impact and choked on her blood, and felt, rather than saw, the creature thrashing above her. There was the furious scream of something in unintelligible Quenya, the hiss of the monster as it held its mangled arm to its chest and hunkered low. The creature was lumbering and sinuous, over nine feet tall but as lithe as an elf. It let off a high, piercing wail as it threw itself towards whatever was stabbing it, only to rear back on its hind legs and charge again, picking up its smaller opponent and slamming them into the opposite wall. The stone cratered on impact, and there was a flash of gold.
Glorfindel, Lucy tried to say, but all that came out was a gurgle of blood and saliva. There was red everywhere she looked, and her vision was filled with stars.
From somewhere behind her she heard the muffled patter of footsteps: more chainmail ringing, followed by the sharp shing of steel being drawn from its scabbard. A slender foot with a narrow ankle came down beside her face. Moments later Ecthelion was picking her up and dragging her towards the door. His curving sword was held in his other hand.
"My city," he was snarling under his breath. "My city, my city, you will not take it from me –"
There was a shout, followed by a queer, reverberation echo rippling across the room. Ecthelion looked up with an expression of horror, before he dropped Lucy and rushed towards the fray.
"LAURËFINDIL, STOP!" he cried. Glorfindel didn't.
For a moment, Lucy saw him. She saw a flash of golden hair as Glorfindel rose about the crest of the creature's bony shoulder. She saw his face, pale and splattered with blood. The ellon whipped his short sword around in an arc, cutting into the creature's outstretched arm and severing it at the shoulder. Then he cut into it again, and again, and Lucy saw the monster stagger. Glorfindel's eyes were glowing, blazing bright as stars in the dark.
The creature screamed. When it did the elf lord screamed too. As if a bomb had gone off the room immediately shattered under the force of the sound wave, glass breaking and wood splintering. The wall ruptured behind him, fragments of marble scattering through the air.
The creature stumbled, turning away, and in that moment Glorfindel sliced through its neck with such force that the head went flying. Then there was black blood absolutely everywhere, a body tumbling to the ground. Glorfindel was still screaming, however, and screaming, his eyes glowing blue as he dropped his sword and clutched at his head. Ecthelion rushed past the monster, and in the same instant he was reaching out and striking the other ellon across the face, so hard he stumbled backwards. In her haze all Lucy could think was oh. Glorfindel killed balrogs for a living, so of course he'd be dangerous because of that. She'd simply forgotten that he could. Then she was filled with a singular, unifying thought of pain, and she didn't ponder over him after that. She blacked out for a time, or maybe it was only a few seconds, because she was bleeding out and the void was getting closer.
As if through a fog Lucy heard the clatter of furniture being pushed aside. She felt slim hands sliding beneath her before one of them clamped down on her neck. Someone was shaking her awake, saying her name, over and over again.
Her whole face feeling heavy, Lucy opened her eyes and stared upwards, only to realize they'd already been open and she hadn't been focusing. There was gold there, hovering over her; pale skin splattered with blood as long fingers pressed themselves into the gaping wound on the side of her neck. A pair of glowing cobalt eyes were watching her.
"Lucy, Lucy, darcoiva. Darcoiva, lá, lá, darcoiva –" Glorfindel was chanting hysterically in Quenya, but she couldn't make heads or tails of it. It was so hard to stay awake. "Lucy, please." the elf lord begged, his hand shaking against her neck. Glorfindel was immortal, though, and Lucy wasn't. There were no second chances for humans who bled out. The specs of light swimming in her vision looked like stars. If she stared into the elf lord's eyes, she could see the universe inside them, the synaptic pathways and binary explosions of a cosmos that had yet to be birthed. He was made of the universe. He was the universe. Lucy was sure of it.
Then, all was darkness. Time lost meaning and broke apart.
Author's Note
A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed. This story has actually passed 100 reviews and 100 follows! While I wasn't expecting that, I'm very grateful for your support and continued interest. To those of you I couldn't PM:
Mellon: My apologies for not being able to respond to your earlier comment. I'm going to stay mum on the Fëanorians for now, as there will be info on them in next chapter. This story had a slow start, but after this chapter things will definitely pick up. I'm super excited about it. Jackdaw: I love your name, btw. And I'm glad the pacing is working well! Imo it can be tightened in a few areas (that's what the revisions are for), but I wanted to do a "realistic" take on a GiME fic, so pacing was a big concern for me. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but, well…
Glossary
All Quenya. Standard bad grammar warning applies.
Mo se – She's mine/one
Mo se, ar úvaldë maparya niva. Lá – She's mine, and you will not take her from me. Please
Heca, saura eredh o Morgoth – Be gone, foul seed of Morgoth
UI – No
Lucy, Lucy, darcoiva. Darcoiva, lá, lá, darcoiva – Lucy, Lucy, stay awake. Stay awake, please, please, stay awake